“It’s time.” Fade tapped on the door’s iron bars in an annoyingly cheery tempo. “With me, Sabine. Your female is going to the arena.”
Nate exploded to his feet, putting himself between the demon and Lena. “You’re not touching her.” He hadn’t been able to protect Eleanor, but by the gods, he’d die before he let Lena be killed.
The two rhino-fiends raised their weapons—lightning sticks, demon inventions that cast a bolt of something that was a cross between electricity and acid. As it stunned you into temporary paralyzation, it ate away the flesh around the area it had struck.
“Nate,” Lena murmured, her palm coming down on his back. “Please. Go with them.”
That wasn’t going to happen. Time for plan B. He pegged Fade with a hard look. “I need to talk to you. Alone.”
Fade nodded at one of the grayish demons with him, and the thing opened the door.
Lena clutched Nate’s arm, holding desperately tight. “Whatever you’re planning . . . don’t.” She lowered her voice as he turned to face her. “I’m dying anyway. Please, don’t make this harder on yourself.”
“Lena.” He cupped the back of her head and put his lips to her ear. “I haven’t had anything worth living for in a long time. Now I do. Trust me.”
He felt guilty for lying, because although what he’d just said was the truth, there was more to it. He also hadn’t had anything worth dying for in a long time. Now he did.
Without looking back, he exited the cell and walked with Fade to the staging area, an open room containing magical artifacts, painted symbols, and an altar. Fury built with every step, all the hatred that had burned out coming back with a vengeance, and Nate welcomed it like an old friend. Once inside, he rounded on the demon.
“Put me in the ring, motherfucker. Put me in there instead of her.”
“That would hardly be fair,” Fade growled. “We don’t have a fighter who can beat you.”
“You can.”
Fade’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re challenging me?”
“Challenging? I plan to kill you. But if I lose, Vladlena goes free.” The demon would take the deal, because the source of his power didn’t come from combatants who won—it came from those who lost. It was why the fight club was so popular . . . people from all over came to fight and lose, knowing they could get whatever they wanted upon their deaths . . . wealth for their children, revenge on an enemy, protection for a loved one. The catch was that if you lost, Fade collected your soul, and most challengers didn’t realize just what “losing your soul” meant.
In this case, it meant that Fade traded the souls he gathered to the highest bidder, and there were people you did not want to own your soul.
“And if I lose?” Fade asked.
“The club is mine.”
Fade hesitated.
“Come on,” Nate cajoled. “You know you won’t lose. And even if you do, you can resurrect.”
Fade hissed. “How do you know?”
“You think I didn’t learn everything there was to learn about your sorry ass?” Nate had just signed his own death warrant. Fade couldn’t risk anyone knowing the truth about him. An enemy who knew how to kill him permanently . . . yeah, not good for someone who had so many enemies.
“What else do you know?”
“You mean, do I know that Budag is your vivacant?” Nate smiled. “That he, and he alone, can bring you back to life? Yeah, I know that. The only reason I haven’t killed him is that I couldn’t risk you finding out I did it and taking it out on Marsden.”
Fade’s skin rippled, the texture alternating between wrinkled and smooth, the color doing a chameleon between tan, red, and the surrounding gray walls. The dude was both excited and angry, something Nate had seen only a handful of times. In his research, he’d learned that the skin thing was a reaction to stress, a natural process that increased the demon’s strength and stamina. Not good.
Fade snatched a parchment from the stack on the altar and slapped it down hard on the stone. “Let’s write this up, vampire. And then I’m grinding you into hellhound food.”
Chapter 11
It had taken everything Lena had not to break down as Nate walked away. She might not know his world like he did, but she had keen senses, and she’d smelled trouble.
Which came in the form of three ugly, horned demons bearing those funky knotted sticks. She’d started to fight them, but after they’d explained what the sticks did, she decided to save her strength for when it would do her more good. Now, blindfolded and shackled, Lena tripped and stumbled her way down the passage, the two demons on either side of her dragging and pushing if she slowed down.
The sound of an anxious crowd, and of blood, bowels, and excrement grew stronger, and she knew she was once again entering the vile arena. One of the demons removed her shackles while the other stripped off her blindfold, and then she was shoved through the gate into the blinding light of the pit.
The first thing she saw was Nate, barefoot, bare-chested, wearing only jeans. His hands were fisted around an ax handle as he faced Fade, who held a wicked curved blade and a wooden stake. Every drop of color drained from Nate’s face when he saw her.
“Hey, sis.”
She wheeled around. “Vic,” she gasped. “What . . . what are you doing?”
Vic pegged her with those black marbles he called eyes. “I’m finally going to rid the world of your weakness.”
“But Vaughn—”
“I told Vaughn I’d leave you alone on your turf. This is mine.” His body began to morph, the sound of bones cracking and reshaping so unbelievably loud in the noisy club.
Lena backed away, knowing full well that when the ten-second process was over, she’d be facing a 250-pound hyena that was far more powerful than its full-animal counterpart.
“This wasn’t part of the deal!” Nate snarled.
Fade’s laughter rang out, echoing endlessly. “You die, she lives. That was the deal,” Fade said. “But if she dies before you do . . .” He shrugged. “Well, that can’t be helped, can it?”
A low-pitched, jagged growl brought her attention back to Vic, who was now all animal. All monster. Drool dripped from his open mouth, which exposed sharp teeth meant to rip flesh from victims while he ate them alive. Terror welled as she eased backward, scanning the area for a weapon. Unfortunately, there was nothing, and though both her father and Wraith had spent time with her in Underworld General’s gym, teaching her self-defense, she knew damned good and well that her meager hand-to-hand skills weren’t going to help her against the beast in front of her.
Nate moved so fast she didn’t see him until he was at her side, swinging the ax. Vic yelped as the blade grazed him in the shoulder, but then Fade was there, his weapon coming down in a vicious arc.
Nate whirled, narrowly avoiding being beheaded, but his own swing at the demon went wild, leaving an opening for Vic. Her brother lunged, catching her forearm between his jaws. A firestorm of agony accompanied the crunch of bone. Screaming, she punched him in the head, but she was no match for the brother who had beaten her in every battle since they were cubs. He shook her like a rag doll, and her world became a blur.
A warm spray splattered her face—her own blood, she realized, as Vic sent her flying into the wall. Pain shattered her ribs, spine, and arm as she crumpled to the ground. Though she could hear the battle between Nate and Fade clearly, she could barely see through the veil of red dripping into her eyes. In a split second, though, her vision filled with fur and teeth. She twisted, barely avoiding having her face ripped off, and at the same time, she jammed her good arm back, nailing the hyena in the throat.
Vic gagged and fell back, but murder burned like coals in his eyes. When he came at her again, she knew she was dead. Hot, fetid breath scoured her face and claws tore into her shoulders. In a frenzy fueled by fear and adrenaline, she kicked, hit, lifted her knee to nail the beast in the gut.
Once again, blood sprayed her. Arterial blood, and a lot of it. Vic had killed her.
He’d finally . . . dropped to the ground? She blinked, scrambling backward in the sand like a crab. Vic’s body, split open through his rib cage, lay sprawled against the wall, twitching as it shifted back into human form.
Nate had killed her brother. Maybe it was wrong of Lena to not feel bad about it, but right now she didn’t care. Ax blade dripping with streaks of shiny crimson, Nate tried to swing back around to Fade, but saving her life had already cost him. Fade’s blade flashed, and Nate went down, hamstrung all the way to his thigh bone.
“Nate!” Hauling herself to her feet, she staggered toward him.
The crowd cheered, their bloodthirsty chants ringing in her ears. Fade leaped into the air, his spin-kick landing hard on Nate’s jaw. Before Nate could recover, the demon seized Nate’s wrist and flung him like a Frisbee across the arena. Nate’s body hit the far wall with a thump.
He didn’t move.
“No!” Horror and pain squeezed Lena’s heart, and as Fade sauntered toward Nate, stake poised to strike a death blow, her legs gave out. Confusion and helplessness collided, spinning her emotions out of control. She wanted to scream, but nothing would come. She wanted to help Nate, but she couldn’t get her limbs to work.
Her entire body stung, stretched, felt like it was coming apart at the seams. Was she . . . yes. She was shifting. Massive gray paws hit the ground, the wrong color for a hyena, but screw it, she didn’t care. Power ripped through her . . . power and strength and clarity. Without hesitation, she tore across the arena, a sense of elation, of freedom, singing through her veins with every leap and bound.
She hit Fade in the back and closed her jaws around his head. Even as she crunched down on his skull, she heard a commotion, a ripple in the crowd.
She scented them before she saw them—Eidolon and his brothers. His sister. Con. And several others from the hospital and Eidolon’s extended family. Even some members of The Aegis.
She didn’t think, just . . . shifted back before any of their weapons tore through her like Nate’s ax had done to Vic. Her saviors were like locusts, sweeping through the place and fighting the guards. Eidolon and Shade rushed to her, but she shook her head.
“I’m okay. But Nate needs help.”
Help was putting it mildly. He was unconscious, a stake sitting dead center in his chest and multiple, deep gashes all over his body, some gaping so wide that shredded muscle spilled out like raw meat. One leg was nearly severed, and his handsome face was all but unrecognizable.
“We need to get him back to UG, stat.” E’s tone was grim as he kneeled next to Nate. “The stake in his chest is a frag spike.”
Fear was an icy spear in Lena’s gut. Frag spikes were designed to kill vampires the same as a regular stake, but they fragmented like a bullet when they entered flesh, allowing for more chances to strike a lethal blow. Even if they didn’t kill right away, the slivers took on lives of their own, traveling around the body until they found the heart.
“Lena,” Shade said, even as he signaled to one of the medics for a portable stretcher, “do you want this?”
She knew what he was asking. Inside the hospital, the brothers performed their duties on even the most vile creatures. Outside was another story. If she gave the word, Shade and Eidolon would put Nate out of his misery right then and there. But Nate wasn’t the monster she’d thought he was, and she nodded.
“I want this more than anything,” she said softly. “Save him.”
Chapter 12
Nate hadn’t felt this crappy since . . . well, he couldn’t remember when. Consciousness was elusive, and when he did manage to grasp it and hold on for more than a few moments, pain wracked him and made him wish for slumber again.
Except that he needed to be awake, because he kept hearing Vladlena’s voice, and he was desperate to know that he wasn’t dreaming her softly-spoken words.
Slowly, he pried open his eyes. A grayish fog swirled all around him, but through it he could make out hospital equipment and walls scrawled with red symbols. On the ceiling, thick chains hung in neat loops, and when he turned his head to look out the open doorway, he saw people in scrubs moving past. Beyond them . . .
He blinked. Blinked again. The fog didn’t clear, but a person came into focus, a person he hadn’t seen since the day he became a vampire.
It was the male who had turned him.
The massive guy hadn’t changed; he was still wearing some sort of plate bone armor, and his pale hair still hung to his shoulders, with two thin braids at each temple. Tattoos on his throat writhed as he spoke with a Seminus demon in a black paramedic uniform.
Nate waited for the hot, searing hatred to wash over him, the way it always had when he thought of the male who had taken Nate’s mortal life from him. But nothing happened. Nate had fantasized about finding the bastard and dismembering him slowly, making him pay for what he’d done.
Now . . . now Nate was oddly calm about seeing the guy. The person Nate really wanted to see was Lena, and so far, she was a no-show.
Nate.
She might be a no-show, but her sweet voice was a soothing whisper in his head. Closing his eyes, he let the male who’d made him a vampire disappear, and he concentrated on Lena, wishing he’d had a chance to make love to her.
Nate.
He inhaled, caught a whiff of the fresh scent unique to Lena’s silky skin. Rolling his head to the side, he opened his eyes again. She was standing next to him, dressed in purple scrubs, fiddling with an IV bag of blood. And she was wearing his stethoscope.
“Hey.” Her smile wrapped around his heart, and he smiled back like a besotted fool. “It’s about time you woke up. As soon as this bag empties, you should be back almost to 100 percent.”
“Are you . . .” He had to clear his throat of what seemed to be a year of disuse. “Are you okay?”
“Eidolon healed me when we first came in. Two days ago, in case you’re wondering.” She took his hand, her warm palm heating him. “For a while there, I thought I was going to lose you.”
He’d thought that too. But then she’d come out of nowhere, all fur and fangs, and . . . “You shifted,” he whispered. “I saw you.” What she’d shifted into was another question. He’d never seen anything like the huge, beautiful canine.
“I’m free, Nate.” Her voice was full of charming, childlike excitement. “I’m going to live.”
Nate pushed himself up on one elbow. “How did it happen?”
The sound of a cleared throat brought Nate’s head around. A dark-haired male in scrubs and a white lab coat stood in the doorway.
“Seems our Vladlena is a rare crossbreed. I’m pissed that I didn’t think of that sooner.”
“Why would you have?” she asked. “My father said I was his.”
“He also said you were born in human form. I didn’t put that together with your inability to shift.”
“Crossbreed?” Nate asked.
She nodded. “Apparently, my dam mated with a wolf the same day she mated with the hyena I thought was my father. Who is my father.” There was a heartbeat of silence before she added, “He might have been an evil sonofabitch, but he was good to me.”
“You’ll have to tell me about him someday,” Nate said, and she gave him that smile that knocked him off his axis again. “So how could two different species produce offspring? And how come your other brothers are hyenas?”
Eidolon spoke up. “Littermates can have multiple fathers. As far as interspecies shifter breeding . . . in most cases, it can’t happen. But hyenas are the one shifter species that can sometimes breed with both felines and canines, though the cubs are usually stillborn. Those who survive birth rarely live beyond infancy. I’ve never heard of any making it to adulthood.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “I’ll bet the fact that your father was a doctor saved your life. He said you and Vaughn were sick a lot as babies. Even if he didn’t know why you were sick, he was able to treat you.”
Lena’s fingers stroked the back of Nate’s hand absently.
“What made me finally be able to shift?”
“Adrenaline,” Eidolon said. “Probably combined with strong emotion. Whatever it was, you powered through the block you had.” A commotion started up outside the room. “That’s my cue. Nate, you should feed as soon as possible, and take it easy for a couple of days. Other than that, you two can both take off. Lena, call me later.”
The second the doctor was gone, Nate jackknifed up, hauled Lena into his arms, and yanked her down on top of him. The pinch of pain in his chest was worth having her body against his. “I’m sorry, Vladlena.” He stared into her eyes, praying she could see the intense regret in his. “I’m so sorry I got you into that mess.”
She shook her head, making her braid tap against his neck. “I’m not. I mean, I could have done without nearly being killed, but because of it, I was able to shift. Really, being in that arena saved my life.”
“I killed your brother.”
Her hand came up to cup his cheek. “He’d have killed me if you hadn’t.”
Thank gods she was cool with what he’d done, because he wouldn’t take it back even if he could. That bastard had deserved to die. A sudden flare of panic shot through him as the events in the arena came back to him.
“What happened to Fade? And the club. Shit . . . Marsden—”
“Marsden’s fine,” she assured him. “In fact, he was here a little while ago to check on you. Gladius has been shut down, and Fade’s dead.”
If only that were true, and the reality was like water on flame. The demon would hunt Nate and Lena to the ends of the earth. “He can be resurrected.”
A wicked smile touched her lips, stirring the embers of the fire that had just been doused. “Sin recognized his demon species. His remains are being stored in the morgue until we can identify and kill his vivacant.”
Damn, Lena and her colleagues were awesome. “I can help with that.” He kissed her, a fleeting brush of his mouth over hers. “Oh, hey, I want to find that vampire I saw earlier.”
“You’ll have to be more specific,” she said wryly. “This place is crawling with the fangy sort.”